Page 67 of His Ruthless Match (Below #3)

He quickly tied my hands again, this time in front of me.

The next few moments passed in a whirlwind of touch and sensation.

He lifted my chin, brought his mouth to mine again— slower this time, as though savoring my taste.

I moaned into the kiss, needing more, needing all of him.

I became acutely aware that I was still wearing my bra.

Jareth’s fingers found the strap, tracing the line of it before sliding beneath to undo the clasp.

He slipped the bra away until the straps were around my wrists, his gaze never leaving mine.

The reverence in his eyes made me shiver.

“So fucking beautiful,” he said. Those three words made warmth flood my chest. It was more than just lust in his tone. There was admiration, maybe even respect.

He guided me to lie down, easing me back until I felt the mattress beneath me.

He pressed a kiss to my shoulder, then my collarbone, his lips trailing down my body in a slow journey that ignited my skin.

Each touch of his lips and hands imprinted on my memory, as though I were cataloging every moment to revisit later.

My mind flickered briefly to the man I’d known Jareth to be—intense, sarcastic, fiercely protective—and marveled at how quickly we’d come to this. Something primal simmered in him, matched by my own awakened desire. I exhaled his name like a plea.

“Yes, Eva?” he murmured, lifting his head just enough to meet my eyes.

I hesitated, uncertain of what I needed. Finally, I whispered, “Don’t stop.”

He didn’t.

Jareth’s fingers slid down my sides to the waistband of my jeans. “I don’t think you need this, do you?”

I shook my head and moaned quietly as Jareth undid the button and zipper and peeled the denim off my legs.

My thong came next, and he held the slip of lace to his face and inhaled deeply.

“I can’t get enough of your scent. It drives me fucking insane.

Which reminds me… I equally enjoy the way you taste. ”

Before I could have a moment of feeling shy or hesitant, Jareth moved down my body until his breath was hot on my center.

His tongue shot out and grazed my clit, and my hips jerked involuntarily.

Flashing me a wicked grin, he closed his lips around me and sucked hard.

I gasped and arched into him, feeling the familiar burn building in my core.

“Jareth,” I cried out. He chuckled around my clit, his tongue dancing even as his hands roamed my body.

“You taste so good,” he murmured against my skin, trailing kisses down to my entrance. “So fucking wet and ready for me.” He pressed a light kiss there, sending shivers down my spine.

“Don’t stop,” I moaned, unable to help myself. He slid two fingers inside me, stretching me slowly but surely. I gasped at the intrusion, but found myself wanting more. He pumped his fingers in and out of me in a slow rhythm that had me squirming beneath him.

His other hand came to rest on my bound wrists, pinning them to my bare stomach. “Give me your trust, Eva.”

I nodded shakily, unable to speak as he positioned himself at my entrance.

There was something both terrifying and exhilarating about surrendering control like this—especially to him.

With one smooth thrust he was inside me, filling me completely.

The fullness made me bite my lip and ignited a spark of fiery pleasure deep within me that spread throughout my entire body with every stroke of his hips.

“So fucking tight,” he groaned, his body moving with a familiarity that sent shivers down my spine. Each thrust was punctuated by grunts of pleasure, setting off a chain reaction in my own body.

“Jareth,” I panted, arching into him as he hit something deep inside me. He growled and pressed harder, his fingers digging into my hips as he found a pace we both loved. The rhythm was primal and powerful. It spoke of trust and lust and the heat that simmered between us even when we were at odds.

I wanted to grab his ass, cup his balls—do anything to show him how crazy he made me. But my hands were bound, and the very thought of not being in control, of letting him consume me, only pushed me closer to the edge.

Jareth’s hands found my ass, squeezing and pulling me closer with each thrust. He bit his bottom lip, his brow furrowed in concentration as he moved faster, harder.

His body shook with the effort of holding back, and I could feel it in every muscle and sinew.

I wanted to free him from that restraint—to make him lose control the way he made me.

“Let go, Jareth. I trust you.”

Heat flared in his eyes, and the next moment there was no holding back. He pounded into me, moaning my name as his hips found a brutal rhythm that made my head spin.

“Fuck,” Jareth groaned, his eyes rolling back into his head. “I can’t take much more of this.”

We came together, our cries mingling with the storm outside as we found release in each other’s arms. Jareth collapsed on top of me, his breath warm against my neck.

My pulse thundered in my ears, matching the roar of the rain. With a gentleness that contradicted the passion with which he’d taken me, Jareth unknotted the scarf, freeing my hands. He massaged my wrists, then pressed soft kisses there as if in apology.

My chest rose and fell in shaky breaths. A maelstrom of emotions coursed through me—exhilaration, desire, and a strange tinge of vulnerability. Jareth’s fingers brushed my jaw, guiding me to face him. His gaze was earnest, the lingering desire laced with an unexpected tenderness.

“You okay?” he asked again, searching my eyes.

I nodded, pushing a few stray strands of hair from my face. “Yeah,” I whispered, my throat dry. “I’m okay.”

He gave me a small, genuine smile as he pressed a featherlight kiss to my forehead.

My thoughts drifted to the laptop, the images, the initial teasing—how it had led us here, to this electric moment.

Some part of me knew this went beyond mere physical attraction or fleeting lust. I trusted this man.

I had let him tie my wrists. I had asked him not to stop.

And he had checked in with me every step of the way.

Jareth exhaled softly and laid a hand on my cheek, guiding my gaze back to him. “Tell me what you’re thinking, Delgado.”

I swallowed, unsure if I could voice the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me. “I’m thinking this is… insane,” I finally said, opting for partial honesty. “And probably a bad idea.”

He let out a low laugh, but his eyes remained serious. “I won’t deny it’s a bit crazy. But do you regret it?”

“No, I don’t regret it.”

“Then let’s not overthink it.” He brushed his lips against mine in a tender, almost-chaste kiss that made my heart clench for reasons I didn’t quite understand. When he pulled away, his gaze held a faint glimmer of mischief. “At least not tonight.”

I laid my head on his shoulder, and he draped his arm around my waist. The closeness felt both alien and comforting.

Once morning came, reality would return in full force.

We’d have to face the complexities of whatever this was, not to mention the other dangers lurking outside the door.

But for now, I allowed myself to exist in this cocoon of warmth.

We lay like that for a while, neither of us speaking, just absorbing the presence of the other. My eyes began to drift shut, exhaustion and satisfaction folding over me like a heavy blanket.

“Eva,” Jareth murmured, voice rumbling in his chest.

“Yeah?” I answered. I was always surprised when he said my name so gently.

His fingers curled into my waist. “Nothing.” The single word held a quiet note of hesitation and something unspoken. He pressed a kiss to my temple. “Sleep.”

I closed my eyes, letting the rain lull me into that space between sleep and wakefulness. Would we pretend this never happened, like we usually did? Or would we confront it head-on? Was I even ready for the ramifications of letting Jareth in, physically and emotionally?

Those questions faded under the steady lull of his breathing and the dissipating storm.

Eventually, I drifted off, cocooned in the warmth of his presence, dreaming of silk scarves and stormy nights. And for once, I allowed myself to simply be—in his arms, in the moment, with no regrets and no promises. The rest could wait.